Proving a Point
by Angeladex
Summary: The Sun, The Sea, and the Host Club! That one scene. You know the one. Except maybe creepier. Still potentially canon compliant. Just...explores different avenues of thought. Because a point was proved. But God, what a way to prove a point. And I picked this pic on purpose because it's valid. Just way more light-hearted than the tone of this fic.


"Why'd you turn the lights off?" Haruhi murmured as he turned to face her. She felt ill-at-ease; Kyoya looked strange without his glasses on. He looked…cruel, just now.

"If you want to," Kyoya was looking her in the eye, grinning. It was disconcerting. "You can pay me back with your body."

_What? _

She cried out in surprise as he gripped her wrist, hard, pulling her off-balance and all but flinging her sideways– into his bed.

The bedcovers flew up from the force of her landing, and in the time it took for her mind to stop reeling from shock, she was on her back, and Kyoya-sempai had her trapped.

He knelt, straddled over her, looking down at her with that calculating look in his eyes. He loomed, quite literally, being easily twice her height standing; kneeling over her like this…she felt very small.

Oh.

Oh, that.

Oh, God.

Her heart thudded in her chest; pounded in her ears. He wasn't touching her. Not a single part of him was touching her. But she didn't dare to presume that it was for any other reason than he _chose_ not to. Not yet.

"Surely you aren't so naïve that you actually believe a person's sex doesn't matter," he chided condescendingly. These were the same words she herself had said earlier. He was twisting them meanly, making her sound like a fool. And she was.

Oh, God.

Oh, God.

"You've left yourself completely defenseless against me," Kyoya finished, and had it really only been a few seconds?

He was there. Looming over her. He wasn't wearing a shirt. She. She was wearing a dress. She was very aware of where the hem rested, on her thigh. And under that, just her underthings.

Oh, God.

And in her mind, he did it, then. Because he could. He held her down. He was so much taller than her, so much stronger. He was almost a man, and she was still closer to a girl than a woman.

In her mind, he muscled her into submission so he could unzip his pants.

Because that's what Tamaki had meant. That's what she'd overlooked, because she was so stupid. This was why it mattered. She…was completely at Kyoya-sempai's mercy.

In her mind, he was cruel, and he didn't care that she cried. In her mind, he forced her.

She blinked, and she was in reality. In reality, he still hadn't touched her.

She felt her dress slide a tiny bit further up her thigh; her knees were tented, and gravity was working against her.

In reality, the silence stretched. It was nigh unbearable.

She knew, in her mind, what _could_ happen: she had allowed herself to be put in a situation where she could be forced.

Raped.

She had accepted it, now, as a possibility. But…what else could be true of this situation? Where on earth was this supposed to go? Why would—

And then it clicked. _So that's it._

She hoped she was right.

_Oh, God, what if she was wrong?_

"You won't do it, Kyoya-sempai," she said in what she hoped was a firm, knowing voice. She wanted to sound confident. Like this wasn't a guess. Like she wasn't terrified. "I know," she continued, sounding braver, "because it wouldn't do you any good. You wouldn't gain anything from it."

There it was. If she'd read his character right, this was the truth. He would gain nothing, and therefore, he would deem it as not worth his time. But…he had always been harder to read than the others.

An eternity of an uncertain moment. He could back off – like she hoped he would – or she was equally certain he'd continue his advances just to spite what she'd said.

In her mind, he smiled cruelly. And covered her mouth. Almost suffocating her. And pushed his hips between her knees.

In reality, he smiled…a normal smile. And withdrew himself. "You're right," he said with a humorless chuckle. "You're a fascinating young woman, Haruhi."

And…and he was gone. Sitting on the edge of the bed, having never laid a finger on her. He hadn't done it. She could still hear her heart thudding loudly in her ears, and allowed herself a moment. To breathe. To be well. Whole.

Undefiled.

"But…I've learned something from this," she breathed, sitting up. Her arms felt shaky…she was hesitant to put all of her weight on them. "I guess I never realized what a nice guy you are, sempai." She smiled thinly. Because the reality was, this had been a lesson she'd needed. And he'd been kind enough to show her.

God, what a way to show her, though.

Kyoya had reached over to the table, and glanced at her in mild surprise at her words. He pushed his glasses up his nose, and a piece of normalcy shifted back into the world. Haruhi was fine with the odd way he could create barriers with those damnable glasses of his; anything was better than that cruel stare she'd seen in her mind. The cruel smile he'd worn, at the start.

She adjusted her balance, tucking her legs underneath her. So she wouldn't have to support her weight on her still-shaky arms. So she could tuck her dress under her knees.

He didn't move. Not closer, not further away. And a part of her was glad for it; for all the apparent playacting, she was still very on-edge.

It was her who leaned a little closer. Earnest. She really was taking this as a lesson; taking it to heart.

But he'd scared her to death. And she'd not forget it in the span of a moment.

Her body was still all tremors, coming down from the adrenaline of the intensity of the moment.

In her mind, the events from earlier played, but she saw them as the others had seen them.

Standing up to them by herself.

They were drunk.

They'd already been making passes at the girls. Touching them without permission.

"I know what you're doing," she said in the present. Her smile was confident, now that she knew everything was all right. That she'd called him on what she wasn't certain had been his bluff. "You're just trying to prove what Tamaki-sempai said earlier."

God, what a way to prove it, though.

Kyoya stood, and another blessed piece of normalcy fell into place. She felt tangible relief. She hadn't realized how easily she could be reduced to this – but that was exactly the point.

His expression was inscrutable. As always.

-o-

AUTHORS NOTE

My take on this scene.

I've always wanted to kind of push it. It's...potentially darker and creepier than portrayed.

How'd I do?


End file.
